FF (Fast-Forward)
by Yuri the Eighth Demoness
Summary: The little changes the future brings, when Ikebukuro, Shinjuku or Tokyo was no longer the world. The Monster and the Flea. Their life in marriage. {The future of the ship as I see it. A gift fic that I think I will continue here. But let's see.}
1. Prologue (Part One)

_Author's Ek-ek:_

 _This was actually a gift fic to someone but I think it had not been appreciated. So instead of letting it go to waste, I'd rather share it here. Hope you guys like it._

* * *

 _You've cried._

When old man Kline died, I saw again that very human side of you which proved me wrong all the time, that side that makes you so vulnerable, the side which shows that no matter how abnormal your strength might be, the once dubbed _Monster_ could still hurt, could still grieve, could still shed lonely tears. No matter how you now stand so resolute, a picture of apathy, decked in your most somber black as a sign of your sadness, shaking hands with the visitors who will soon be part of the breadth and width of our new life.

"Shaun Kline? Roan McKinney. Official liaison of the Federal Government to Arthur Kline Industries. I was friends with your father. I am sorry for your loss."

I watch silently as you clasp hands with this person who gives you his condolences, condolences from the very authorities of this country we have made well ado of, before you turn to introduce me as your partner and brother.

"Isaiah…"

"Pleasure," and it's my turn to give my acknowledgements, aware that in the near future, this acquaintance will come very useful.

I hate funerals. As I sit looking at the gold-plated coffin, I feel irked by the fact that _He_ has to share part in this, indulging myself in a bit of an imagining, seeing how I may smash _His_ great crucifix into so many pieces on the marble of the hall, scattering the large English roses surrounding it, dance upon its powdered remnants to the tune of some devil's violin.

But then I stop.

Though I never perhaps believed, this is a desecration even from someone the likes of me. Because the man who now lies in that casket had likewise been _my_ father. He was the man whom, no matter how much of a conniving bastard or pied piper I see him to be, was still the man who mentored you to be what you are, and I thank him for that. And he has given me equal chance, and I thank him for that.

"May I take one of the twins, Boss Isaiah?"

Miranda Arci. She reminds me of my former secretary though her warmth is more obvious in her personality. She comes to me and offers a helping hand, carefully taking Shizaya from my other arm and cradling our child's sleeping form as she sits right beside, crooning "Shh, Sabre…" our dearest little one's American name rolling very sweetly over her tongue, lulling him so effectively back to slumber, those strong arms taking him, rocking him back to sleep.

"Isley is a rather behaved sleeper," she notes, looking over at Izuo who can be a polar bear of sorts at times; as long as he isn't cold, as long as he is wrapped in his fur and coat, he dozes with no trouble. The conversation before she points something more, "Boss Shaun has taken it rather hard."

Of course.

That is something all of us understands.

You had been at the hospital when father breathed his last, had held his hand and heard his last wishes, and you had been distracted ever since I could see. But this I have also come to comprehend.

No one knew but this might as well be the first real death you have witnessed in your life, have never really killed anyone during our _olden times_ together, no matter how often you scream the intent like an incantation, _**kill kill kill**_.

I fall to quietly watch you, a standing figure with a pretty face looking over our dead patriarch's final bed, hair never once bleached the last three years and had since returned to its subtle brown because, here in America, there was no longer the need to put up appearances. You never needed to set off any warning signs. You could be you as I could be me. But then _who are we_?

We are the adopted sons of this rich mogul who had lost his own family long ago. We had reminded him so much of the offsprings he will never see again save perhaps now in death. We are Shaun and Isaiah Kline. And we had been married…

* * *

As the hours drag on, I get bored, the kids I have entrusted to their keepers earlier and have both disappeared upstairs since. Two-year-olds need that much rest after all. Plus what use have they with chatter? With talk amongst clients and other personages? With discussions about the business of guns and weapons and politics that we shall soon take over and had began to take over under our father's tutoring?

I hear the president will come to the funeral. I don't really care. And neither do the children as they will see more of these people in their lifetime. But where are you now?

I walk the steps towards their room to check up on them, our little ones, wondering however where you had disappeared to. I could not find you downstairs, not even in the gardens where you often sought your peace. The crowd below is still thick, these seemingly faceless strangers preferring to play at their anonymity and do transactions in the night. The habit extends even to the wake of the old man doesn't it? Human eccentricity. How _amusing_.

"Boss Isaiah."

On my way up, I see Yuri and Schneider, their strong European features a stunning contrast to my own which you have more than once described to be delicately Asian that it's beautiful. They carry with them no smile. Not today anyway. And had I not left the kids in their care?

I ask them about that. They both inform me that you had given them leave. I see. So that is where you are?

"Come back in thirty minutes," I ask them. "I may want to get Shizu-chan to bed in a bit. He hasn't slept that well lately." At this they nod, no questions really, as everyone accepts what we are…

I slowly twist the knob of the door of the nursery located at the farthest end of the hall, quietly peeking in, seeing your form as you were seated on one of the chairs in the room, looking down upon the cradle.

The gentle sound of the music box tinkled about, a tiny lullaby and it makes me want to hum as that song often gets stuck in my head until morning.

"Found _you_ ," I smile and it makes you smile slowly, though you never really turn to look at me. You stay looking down, the low beam of the night light casting its shadows upon your face but catching the pretty little jewelry of a piercing I had once conned you into getting. A remnant of Ikebukuro, this trinket. A proof of home.

"You run away from them and come here for some solace? If the kids awake, you'll have a handful."

I am teasing. I know you never really cared about babysitting. You love to do this. You take care of the young ones perhaps more than I could and I was supposedly the _mother_ in this equation.

You finally turn to me.

"Come here, Izzy." And I do. Obediently. I move to stand just before you, to look upon your tired face, your burdened eyes with that unmistakable expression you can't quite hide. You had been so easy to read, or is it more accurately said that I am used to everything that is _you_ so I know when you are troubled?

You need rest but why don't you take it? I ask eventually and you just shun the concern with the tiniest of smirks. You make me frown. Then you lift your arms and embrace my waist, as if that alone was enough to pacify me. In a way yes. It is.

" _I love you_ ," you say.

"I know," I say back. "But the old man will be cremated in the morning and we have to take that trip to New Orleans. You might crash. You're already so stressed out.

"You're not invincible _Mr. Monster_."

It's a long way to that State where we are to rest the old man's ashes, in the mausoleum where his family had been laid in urns and jars many years before. He will join them there finally, and I'd like to think our adopted father is at last content.

"You smell lovely."

Ah diversion. Since when had you learned to change the topic of our discussions when I press you for a confrontation of them? It's unnerving sometimes, how you can now match me by wits after you had been properly schooled by the dead father. But then I found out how this could sometimes be your way to obtain some manner of attention. You now know how to quirk me the right way to respond like how you want to.

"I thought I stink? Don't tell me the change in location changes the scent of a person," and I easily give in to your way, glad at least that I have caught you in conversation. Not like yesterday, or the day before that.

"Who said you stink?"

"Liar."

Now at last I hear you chuckle, the small sound of your amused voice echoing gently around the room, before I hear you sigh, your embrace tightening around me, burying your face. Your breath tickles. It so easily sends shivers through even the barriers of clothing between us.

I embrace you back, running my hands through the silkiness of your hair, smoothing the strands and twirling them idly around my fingertips. It takes me back to the days we had first met, the games I annoyed you with, the endless chases that could have continued on and on.

And to think everyone would now be so surprised, nay, shocked, how we, of polar opposites with no chance to get along, are now partners. Me, the infamous sleuth and incurable troublemaker, incapable of caring could actually fall...in love with you.

And have kids.

Never mind if it could be called an accident the way they have been conceived.

"Hey, Izaya…"

Ah, I've never heard you call me that in a while. It's either Izzy or Isaiah which is fine, but the ring that comes with it is somehow different. You reach up to me, palms cupping the sides of my head and running your thumb across my cheek, a tiny slice of affection, a gesture of want. Of love. Yet I can see still the sorrow. I could not possibly have that, not tonight. Not ever. It hurts me in turn.

"Make love to me?" I ask you. I mean it, needing you as I always do.

"We can't. We have guests."

"The hell," I smile seductively, the way I know which gets to you. "Screw the guests. Or rather screw me, and let me show you how my body can console you."

Now it's my turn to convince you to come at me, and all I need is to bend right in, tempt you with my kisses, urge you to return the movement of my lips, the flick of my tongue, the little teases I let slip and slide until you take over, command my body as you please, locking your lips upon mine possessively. We haven't done this in days. I'm hungry. And so are you apparently.

"Shizu-cha…ahn…" I throw my head back. Challenge answered.

"Let's go to the other room," you say. "I don't want to wake the kids."

But then you never really let go. You keep kissing and caressing, hands running over, building up the fires and stoking at the flames. I feel myself warming up, and quickly, body so used to the sense of your touch, the feel of your palms, the hot skin I am utterly enchanted with beneath your clothes, the hair you sweep back over your forehead.

I shudder. Then all I hear is the lock of the door as you click it open, pushing us both through the adjacent chamber only to shut us both in. At least for some minutes, or hours, however long it takes, as we meld together in the silence of this darkness, I will share a bit in your burdens, as you had once shared in mine three years behind us…

* * *

I'd passed out.

It's embarrassing to admit, but in the onslaught of such high strung passion, having just come down from heaven if that was what I can closely relate it with, I most always never survive your sheer dominance and tenacity, your body always difficult to please thus it could rip out of me all that it needs, all that it demands, and I give forth like a cup to your desires…

When I came to, all I could feel was you, as if the outline of your form were stuck to mine still, and I search about in the room to find you already dressed, clean in a crisp suit, straightening a sable tie in front the mirror. So handsome, _my husband_. So unlike what you had been in the detritus that was Tokyo.

You smile when you noticed how I'd awakened to look at you, me actually thinking you to be the most amazing of beings, not that you had been anything else but that. Even in the never-ending bartender's garb you so lovingly paraded in before, you looked like a painting to me, as sensual as a Botticelli.

I close my eyes.

I've actually fallen asleep wrapped in the sheets and your coat, ah, when all that I intended earlier was to give you repose. My plan had backfired. Irony of ironies…how they most always do when it's with you, switchblades and traffic posts notwithstanding. But you never seem to tire, never seem to care, the one who slumbers lightly now during the nights when that had been my habit before.

"What time is it?"

I'm too lazy. Of course the digital clock tells me it's been a couple of hours since you held me, took me about thrice, teased me until all I could do was beg mercy.

I want to complain. "You must be tired," but it's you who reaches with the first touch of concern, running a hand so affectionately down the side of my cheek again, wrinkling your nose when you notice your jacket which I all but snuggled further in, inhaling your scent.

"I can't use that now can I?" you smirk. "Damned flea."

"It was your fault you'd used it to tie me with," I spat back, but only to blush, remembering how I'd shuddered after the sleeves had become a fastening to hold me still while you worked above me.

You notice this. You laugh. Then bend in to grant me a little kiss, this time determined not to let it go over. It may be past three but we know of _those guests_ , the ones who'd come from overseas who will be arriving to pay their final respects.

"Stay here," you requested, as much as it was a command.

I will. I feel sleepy now. But then if I can, I'll be the one to do away with preparations tomorrow. I say this to you and you merely smile. There's always Clyde or Miranda for that, you reply. But I insist. At least let me do my share as a son to Arthur Kline…to the man who had adopted us when we were so lost on this foreign soil.

But let me touch you, yes? Let me reach my hand. Feel you before you walk out the door.

"Where are your rings _Mr. Information Broker_?" was your question, even as you incline that cheek upon the palm by which I caress it with.

"Oh they're there," I say with a grin. You can feel them. But this is just a question you test me with. You meant something else. I know that beloved. Especially as you move to twine your hand with mine.

Oh they are there. Just a different pair now decorating that one most important finger to my left as yours decorated that one important finger of your right.

The engagement and wedding bands you had given me. I have never really taken them off, or never for too long when I do. That way they remind me that…that…

"I already belong to you," I vow. I just want to, amusing even myself that I am capable now of such sweetness. "Until death Shizuo Heiwajima…"

 _[ **RIP**_

 _Arthur Leon Francesco-Kline_

 _In loving memory of your sons Shaun and Isaiah_

 _Grandsons Isley and Sabre_

 _Friends and Acquaintances]_


	2. Prologue (Part Two - End)

… _As gently as the world revolves_

 _this time, it comes to pass._

 _Life from ground to ground return,_

 _the soul from ash to ash…_

You sulked.

I apologize.

I had not paid enough attention to you since he had died that I had been quite the difficulty for you. You want to scold me again don't you? Go ahead. If you bitch from time to time, that is still quite acceptable. I will take your moods and sways. Because you are… _my wife_ …thus I've given you all the right.

But I truly am sorry. Forgive me. I did not mean to make you worry as I was aware you'd been since that day. I didn't mean to snap back, to raise my voice, to inflict you with my hapless anger.

Never again so please come in, talk to me, draw close to me and let me see your face. Look upon me like that, with those kinder eyes, and tell me how it is that you understand what has been bothering me since before, and that you know exactly what to do to make me feel better…

You wait.

As I look through the father's will, I somehow find it difficult to read the words. It all becomes a blur. Perhaps you're right. I am already so tired from lack of sleep that I may collapse along the way. But then I knew I wouldn't. My body simply couldn't. Too many things to be concerned about that it bleeds before it aches.

We had met with the lawyer early today, and he had gone through the details within these documentations, reiterating what we already know: how the wealth will be divided amongst the men and women who'd long been under Arthur Kline's employ and are family, with the majority of it, from stocks to properties, the estate and the business itself, to be left in our care.

I could not believe this.

No, not the contents of the will itself as we had seen it before, or what the whispering visitors say to be our good fortune for having inherited quite much from our patriarch, but rather that he is dead, the man that had been my father and mentor…teacher and friend…a familiar soul in a country I had followed you to…

"Why do you smoke? It is such a bad habit," he'd spoken to me once, I remember, from where he'd sat in his wheelchair that one morning. It had been a couple of months after I met him in the ghettos of California and he had offered me a job.

I had tried to give it a bit of an explanation as best I could, my fixation, this vice, but whatever defense I placed upon it, he did not change his mind regarding his own experiential reasons, smiling merely at what he pointed out to be my naivety.

"No matter how you put it, it is still not good for you, wasting yourself away five minutes at a time, my boy. What would become of Izaya if you die before him eh?"

That made me laugh. He should have not been so worried. Particularly about you. You were a bad weed who would survive even if a volcano erupted. I wasn't worried. You could survive even if I didn't. I smiled.

But nervously I ran a hand through my hair and thought perhaps he'd let the topic slide, determined not to discuss it further, but then he built up upon the next issue and it was the same thing all over again.

"That colour," he started before he paused, ever an old-world gentleman to a man much younger than his own years. He gestured at my bleached head.

"Been this since I was in school," I say.

He chuckled. "It doesn't really suit you," but he was frank with those words and was meaning to chastise me with them. "Is that so you can look tougher?"

I told him about our old neighborhood, about how there had been a need for it, though after which he just scowled again and completely battled me off, gently.

"But I disagree with that Tom persona. I don't mean any disrespect: he sounds nicer compared to your male wife," he whispered with a tip of his head and a wink, a sly little curve of his lips. "But why must you cover up something that is you?

"You're in the Land of the Free, my boy, so why not free yourself from such a notion? There are no such threats here anymore. And you of all people should know that the only _bad person_ to ever harm you here, will be the bad person you _make_ of yourself."

I wanted to tell him it had been a habit already, but I stopped there before I said any more, knowing he'd only tell me the same thing he had said about my smoking addiction earlier. Sly old fox. A devil of a dog. But I did appreciate those words because he cared.

Three years after and I have never once touched a cigarette. I've never once tried to change my hair colour again. Thus when I look in the mirror, I see Shaun Kline, the improved version of _your_ Shizuo Heiwajima, his form that of a cunning entrepreneur, handsome as you described me often in these expensive suits and designer ties, hair combed neatly back, longer now that at times you help me tie it with a black ribbon.

Admittedly I like it. I like who I had become. So do you evidently enough as you fall to stare at me again…

Then you move a bit in, pausing halfway however as if there's something I'm doing that was making you hesitate.

"Your brother and my sisters called," then you inform me. "They're asking how you're doing."

Of course. Being three of only four people to ever become our accomplices when we eloped, they know exactly where we had landed after we fled the country. They know what had become of us both. They had followed the story of the monster and the flea with keen interest, not that it was important to do so, but that we did throw them into much worry after we left in such a hurry.

"Did you tell them I was fine?" I ask. I tire of the documents finally. I throw them in a vault and put my glasses down.

Knowing you, you most certainly had done better than that, the simple expression you have on your face telling me I am close to correct. It likewise makes you look entirely cute, enticing as you appear leaner than I am in your own mourning clothes, hair softer than I could remember back when we were home.

But I do miss it sometimes, that trademark jacket, the one you ran around in while I gave chase though, here, in a land so far away from those tumultuous seasons, it has never gone beyond you to be wrapped in fur from time to time.

Ah, come here, I beckon. I need a short moment with you before we leave. I just want to feel you close, touch you, let my hands run automatically over. I want to explore deeper but I know I should not though the way you shudder tells me I am getting through the right way.

"Lovely," I whisper into your ear, kissing the lobe, making you shiver as I purposely blow over the wet trail I left there.

You laugh lightly, _deliciously_ , narrowing those eyes playfully as you turn to look at me. "That really is not an adjective to describe another man, _Shizu-chan_." But it describes you rather perfectly.

Don't argue with me, I say. You never win nowadays anyway. Even if we play that tortured version of chess you had entertained yourself with in Shinjuku, and here in Beverly Hills, I'm the one who always gets the matches, the one free to light the board on fire.

But here, let me kiss your lips, let me move in deeper, twining our tongues mindlessly as we share a few minutes together with the world promptly shut out of these four corners. If I could only throw you down the couch right now, I'd do it. Your body, I long for it. I'm addicted to it. And no, it is not a habit I can so easily quit.

"Shizu-chan," you whine. "Can't you wait until after we get to New Orleans?" And you try push me away, though there was no real effort in your hands to make much difference. I see. Conscientious?

But had you not been the one to challenge me just hours before? The one to beg and plead to get me to bed with you, stealing me from our responsibilities as the sons of our adoptive father? You frown all the more when I remind you, how it was that you had thrust so sexily into my grip, _wanting_ , _wanting_ …heat and hotness before bursting forth like fireworks on the number of fourths of July we've witnessed.

I laugh at your flushed expression.

Yes, I get it my love. I see you visibly bristle at me like a cat. Still adorable. The truth is, I had just been utterly burdened as of late that I am merely distracting myself. But this is fine. These few minutes are enough. We are both in no hurry and there is no need for any further comfort really. You had already given me enough.

Besides, I have no plans to destroy the significance of today. We are both grieving. Everyone in the house is sharing in this same sorrow we feel within.

I fall to just embracing you then, remembering how our old man Kline had been right in his verdict about you and me. "What would I do without you?"

You return the favour, sliding your arms around before offering your lips up again for my kisses.

"You'd still be you."

* * *

"Papapa!"

The kids have already awakened. Though still in their nappies, they look quite much like tiny gangsters the way they're also dressed in their little black coats and ties. I take one of our children and you take the other, unusual that we entrust our Izuo and Shizaya when we are busy to two other men who looked more the part of the assassins they are known in the dark than actual nannies.

The babes embrace, wee fingers reaching so that they may hold on tight as they ride on our arms to the waiting vehicles.

It would have been another day in paradise, if not for the fact that there was to be a burial and that everyone had been waiting for us to lead them on…

As we descend the staircase, I take note of all the faces, all the personages, Clyde, Miranda, the Smith Sextuplet, even Sebastian…all scarred people, bad and good people, killers and demons in their own right and choosing…people we had met in the few years we had been here. In an odd way, it warms my heart, how they could have been these dirty of beings or of affliction, very much similar to us, but were still influenced to be better by the luminary that was Arthuro Kline.

As you and I had been influenced.

When I informed them that they each had an inheritance, and now had no need to pay a debt of gratitude to me since the old man is dead, it stunned me that they all decided to stay anyway.

"We are family," they had responded to my curiosity. "We have never left the Boss when he was the head of this household. We shall swear the same loyalty to you now as his successor, Boss Shaun."

Yes. It does warm my heart. I just hope I will be able to live up to their expectations. That scares me the most. I've never been responsible for something so huge in my life yet here it was now. Having saved them from physical harm is different from running a multi-billion industry of guns and weaponry. I've never even known such a profession existed until I met the old man down that alley.

Then I suddenly feel your hand in mine.

This catches me off, but as I look back at you, at the assurance you often encourage me with, far from the ghastly spectre imp who played his games in the light of the moon back in Ikebukuro, as you smile at me, I can't help but feel so utterly secure in my current place.

"Cold?" I ask you, slightly in awe and partly in wonder, catching a glimpse of our rings as they caught the morning sunlight streaming through the larger windows. Of course this was not the case was it? Tell me then, my Izaya-kun, what you are thinking?

"You'll do great _Boss_ ," you whisper to me among other things, partly in Japanese, Russian, and some endearments in French so it was only I who was entirely aware of what you don't want anyone else around to hear. "I'll just be here. We can do this."

Damned flea. Saying such uncharacteristic things. But then that's how it had been since hasn't it? And I've come to get used to your invigoration. When the body has had enough, there are _your_ words...and _mine_.

* * *

Into the limo and off we shall go, a sleek caravan of some thirty vehicles and more with the guests in them, surprisingly, as a fulfillment to the wishes of the old man that he be traveled to rest in a motorcade of black. It makes me smile, seeing this venerable line of transports that would be taking to the interstate in a bit.

 _You are a weirdo sir_ …I wish I could tell him that now. And I wish he could tell me I had turned out the way he had intended.

But it's all right. Our devoted father has earned his rest. And it makes me happier just knowing he trusts me enough, as if I was born of his own blood, even until his deathbed, where he had held onto my hand to whisper his encouragements…to _move on_ , to be **stronger**.

He trusted me, the plain-minded Shizuo of Ikebukuro, a monster unable to keep a decent job besides being Tom Tanaka's bodyguard; the idiotic Heiwajima who loses his temper easy, an alien wherever I go, the one who is known for the numerous vending machines he has let fly through the air; the unusual beast who tore through town as he ran after Shinjuku's psycho of an informant in a miserable death game which I can't seem to pass up.

No more.

That is now merely a part of history. And the one I so loathe is now my ever loving half. To say you complete my existence, it would be a shock to everyone who knew of our previous tale. What would they say I wonder? I sometimes am interested to find out…

"Shizu-chan?"

You cock your head to the side, a questioning look on your face. I had drifted had I not? Yes. I had pondered. I stare up into your red-brown eyes as you stare back at me with them, the face of my once bitter rival, the one whom I had sworn to kill but ended up loving, embracing … _marrying_.

"Are you all right? Do you need to-"

I kiss you suddenly. _Shut up flea._ I just want a few more seconds like this to pass between us, or make it longer, as when I break the connection, we are both equally breathless.

"Shizu-chan, that was embarrassing!" you cover your mouth with your backhand. You blush right on cue.

Really? You can feel that sort of emotion now? I may need to tease you more with that later, but for now…for now…

"I love you." This is all I can truly say.

I watch you pause then slowly, quite slowly, turn that frown upside down. You had always been weak for compliments. You had always been weak for me. No wonder you are now a Heiwajima…

"Yeah, me too," you blush again, averting your gaze, but below, your hand moves to silently thread your fingers through mine, the world not having seen us, busier with watching the procession of our father's urn being delivered into the waiting car by the pallbearers and the priest, the kids in their belted seats cooing and playing with each other even more oblivious of these events. They don't really care.

 _Bless their innocence_ , I can hear the old man laugh.

" _The start of life, in death_ ," I quote our father's words to you and you recognize the phrase. You tip your head to mine, resting a temple against my shoulder.

" _The change of it, in love_ ," you add with much understanding.

 _[The morning of the travel to New Orleans._

 _Shaun and Isaiah in the gardens.]_


	3. Pre-Script (Entree)

_If I was allowed to love only three humans in my entire lifetime, who would they be? Can't you tell the answer to that by now? But then again, they are not really human are they? And so…am…I…_

 _Izaya Orihara-Heiwajima_ , how many years has it been? He has weathered pain for ages and is now living a rather blissful domestic life married to the only man whom he can never figure out, the only being on the face of the planet with whom his plans could always fail, whom he can never really quite manipulate despite having known all and every little detail about him. And so eventually it ended up like this. They were bound, two pieces of two entirely different things that somehow ended up fitting together rather perfectly.

"Good evening Master," Sebby, as usual, attending to his duties as the butler of the Kline household, with a handkerchief out to wipe off the smudge he'd been scowling at as if it were disobeying him. They were both looking up at the large family portrait, prominently displayed on the small plateau which connected the lower half of the grand staircase to the lesser two forking upwards to the second level of the mansion.

"Are dinner preparations done?" Izaya asked him.

"Yes young Master. Do you want me to go ahead with service?"

"No," replied the other. "We'll wait for your Master Shaun."

The butler all but bowed reverently, taking leave to attend to other matters, likewise leaving the raven-haired Kline to his thoughts.

Izaya stared up at the portrait, at its gilded frame and chiseled corners, at the image contained within actually showcasing a most unusual family. He reached a hand up, touching the feet of the massive picture of his husband, Shizuo Heiwajima, no, Shaun Kline, who was so decently handsome in his formal black, before he took stock of the other half of the portrait, reaching his other hand, this time, to touch the images that were those of their kids…

His own image stood just to the other side of their adoptive father who was already a wheelchair-ridden man by the time this portrait had been immortalized in oils and archaic paint that's said to last forever.

They had not intended to be ensconced into this life, but it had been fated, that during their stay here in the US, they'd come upon this lonesome widower, his family dead, looking for whatever it was that he needed to complete his life.

When he saw Shizuo, when the other saved him from near-death, he saw his eldest son, and when he saw Izaya, he saw both of his children risen from amongst the departed. He immediately offered them a home, despite knowing that they had married and were an odd couple, accepting the relationship and nourishing it. He likewise nourished the potential he saw within them both.

Izaya had been easy to teach in the affairs of business as expected, but with Shizuo it was all patience, the old man bearing the burden of the monster's re-education with much long-suffering, dealing with his short temper and outbursts, his plain understanding, until…until finally he had done it, polished this once-brute to become the other diamond of his empire.

Izaya watched Shizuo metamorphose, become refined, become better, all frustrations and quick impatience disappearing, mind becoming as unexpectedly sharp - or even more - as the blades the retired informant loved to play with before.

But it was not really bad at all. Shizuo had since transformed into someone who was more responsible, more affectionate, able to pluck at the right strings to make Izaya feel even better. And the latter loved that. He loved Shizuo because his rough force was not his only strength now.

But the biggest change happened perhaps when it did that day, when old man Kline called upon them, and in the presence of everyone ever employed and taken in by the family, declared both Izaya and Shizuo to be his next heirs, and that they would be adopted as his sons.

There was a revolt amongst some of the men upon this announcement, and despite Shizuo's and (although he had admittedly feigned most parts of it) his protestations, the patriarch continued with his intent, and in three weeks time, stood true to his word.

Izaya became Isaiah Kline and Shizuo became Shaun, his children, and was introduced to society as such.

Their kids, borne from a mishap during a mission down an illegal bio-engineering lab, originally named Shizaya and Izuo, had also been dressed in the guise of their second and alternate personalities, the acceptable names which made them legal in a country that valued citizenship because it paid the taxes. The kids therefore became Sabre and Isley Kline, their kids nonetheless as the patriarch reached through to his connections to get them registered as the legitimate children of his children.

Izaya sighed to himself.

Old man Kline was thought to be a well-mannered personality in society, very amiable and always cheerful, but he knew for certain that this was not the case. Old man Kline was a cunning artiste though decrepit, a puppeteer who manipulated men from behind the scenes and drew people unto himself so as to fill an immense void, a void left when he lost his family.

Not to mention the old man understood him rather perfectly, understood his madness, and foiled his every attempt at mischief three to four steps ahead before he could accomplish them, accompanied by gentle chastisement he never got even as a kid in Japan.

Now that was awkward, the infamous Izaya Orihara getting outsmarted by another man's psychological onslaught, to be refuted even as his rebuttals had been stunning and perfect.

But it was interesting, living with a human who made him realize there was someone… _better_ …than he was. Annoying as it may seem. But from the old man the former Information Broker learned a new way to play a game with life that never grew stale. He learned from him how it was to value your bonds, in spite of having a mere few.

Old Man Kline.

Izaya changed his mind. He was also not most certainly human…he admittedly liked that geezer as a father…

Red brown eyes flashed, suddenly surprised as a bright yellow ball bounced past him on the floor below. He descended the long staircase to investigate, only to find the kids busy playing, with the blocks and bricks Shizaya loved to build up only to throw down again. The floor had become a chaos of colours, of scattered stuffed animals and teddy bears and large boxes of toys their kids were spoilt with. It always was like this, rooms transforming into impromptu nurseries whenever the kids fancied the area.

Izuo's crayon scribbles had moved from the white sheets and now littered the floor, and as Izaya picked up the ball that had rolled away from their boys' play pen, he thought how Sebby and the servants would have another hard time cleaning the marble of its newly-acquired pen and paint, chalk and crayon.

"You shouldn't make too much of a mess," the _mother_ scolded but lovingly, wondering where the children's nannies had run off to.

"Little Izzy made a dragon!" Shizaya volunteered, pointing at a rather large scrawl where Izuo now rubbed his colours. Tiny hands were busy adding tiny details: claws, a pointy tail, and a wing the young Heiwajima was beginning to fill. Izaya sighed.

"Dragon…" beamed the quieter of the two as Izaya crouched on the floor beside him.

"I can see that," the former Informant frowned, looking at the massive, not entirely fine but still evident lizard his offspring had busied himself with. He looked at the little one.

If Shizaya had Shizuo's hair but had Izaya's eyes, Izuo had his hair but had Shizuo's eyes. Shizaya inherited the strength too, while Izuo…

"Mama?"

The child had always worn a smaller version of the Informant's signature hood, the fur lining the same places, dropping to nearly the same lengths. He was always cold. He was like a snake. But that was this child's power: if his temperature drops, this gentle, mild-mannered kid becomes worse than a person corrupted by _Saika_.

He has torn a trespasser once nearly limb from limb with his bare hands. If Shizaya had not stood in between the stranger and his brother, a braver boy, that one, the very image of his father, the man would have been dead and in pieces.

"You missed a spot," Izaya stopped from pondering, reaching for a crayon and adding his own tint onto that part of the wing his child overlooked, other hand reaching to tousle such fine black hair. The floor was already dirty. Might as well, right?

Soon there were three of them, scribbling anywhere from castles and skyscrapers to their odd little family complete with Chalk Shizu-Papa, Iza-Mama and Sabe and Little Izzy.

Izaya had not noticed the Bentley pull up the driveway, only able to determine that his husband had arrived when Sebby, the look of slight disappointment on his face notwithstanding, informed him of it.

"Master Isaiah, Master Shaun has arrived."

The doors opened just as the butler excused himself, and the straight form of what had once been Ikebukuro's Monster walked in with his secretary and right hand in tow.

Izaya acknowledged Clyde who nodded back, "Good evening Boss Isaiah…" as he too, excused himself, carrying Shizuo's briefcases and folders to the Master Study.

"Welcome home, Shizu-chan," Izaya was first to greet him, smiling, before the kids burst from where they were still drawing, "Papa!" and ran to embrace him.

The pastels were immediately left in a neglected heap on the floor.

"Hey there you two…How are you?"

"Little Izzy made a dragon!" Shizaya reported again, pointing at the mess they had made and expanded on the floor.

"Chalk Papa," Izuo was pointing at another drawing however, and that was something the now-patriarch noticed to be Izaya's handiwork, turning to his male-wife with an exasperated expression that seemed to say ' _You're really encouraging it aren't you?'_

Izaya shrugged with a grin, hugging himself. ' _Wasn't me,'_ he seemed to respond to it.

"Aye, poor Sebby," Shizuo sighed, before the two threw themselves on him for more cuddles, asking for a piggy-back and an airplane ride their father gave immediately…

How lovely it looked, the three of them together, and Izaya couldn't help but think to himself how this scene seemed too perfect. He walked over to where his family was making circles, Shizuo getting amused now by the festoon of little hugs and kisses their kids had given him as a welcome.

"Mama!" and they turned to him, running to embrace their known mother but that only fell about his knees. It didn't deter them though.

"Careful there…" Shizuo steadied Izaya when he seemingly appeared to fall off balance, crowded by their little ones. He stole a kiss from him on the nose. "Hey beautiful."

Sebby was back to announce dinner was ready to serve, taking his Master Shaun's coat and scarf and the kids in either hand with him so that they may be seated first.

"Mama! Papa! Dinner!" called the little ones.

"We'll be there sweetie," Izaya promised, as Shizuo quietly came to mould himself behind him, arms flying to embrace, laying his head onto his male wife's shoulder.

"So…" all the other could do was smile as lips moved to kiss his neck, gently, the hug tightening but not bruising him. "How was work?"

"Tiring," his Shizu-chan replied. "Glad I'm home."

Definitely not like his days in Japan. Working as the CEO of the most powerful weapons company in America was never comparable to being a simple bartender or bodyguard. And despite having worked some three years at it already after the old man died, he was still complaining.

"You're better suited to being this than I am," Shizuo kissed him again, finding those definite spots where he knew Izaya was ticklish.

"Eh? I'm better off as the Head of Research, love. Don't push your responsibilities upon me," the other joked, accepting the little nips and scrapes, denying not his shudders as the tiny, affectionate gestures got to him. The voice purposely made to reverberate on his skin.

"What did you do all day? Did you visit the lab?"

"No," his male wife could all but sigh, running their fingers together. "I received the blueprints for the new guns here, but I decided I'd look at them tomorrow."

"I didn't know you to procrastinate," and Shizuo's hands moved loose, this time to touch him over, making him shudder even further as the groping found his chest and pinched at an attentive nipple.

"Hey!" Izaya had to avoid the intimacy which made his husband frown playfully.

"But I want some."

"Before dinner?"

"Yes," said the once-monster, drawing in again to take the man he had once cursed to a sinful excess into his arms.

Their little moments.

These had been stolen moments before. For no one even knew the two of them has had such encounters back then. No one was ever made aware how their feelings actually run that deeply between them. Even their siblings had been surprised, when one day, out of the blue, they declared they were eloping, leaving for another country to start over.

Izaya reached his hand, ran it over the side of his husband's face. "Later," he promised. "Let's put the kids to bed early and then…" he leaned in to bestow just a light kiss, though his lower body rubbed the suggestion rather obviously. "…I'll spend my time _spoiling_ you."

Shizuo chuckled and pulled him closer, turning the kiss into something more fervent, touching him the same way once more, neck, cheek, jaw, lips, claiming territory with a caressing tongue and some light suction that made Izaya exhale, a string of sighs escaping him.

"Sounds good. I'll make sure to take you up on your word."

Izaya laughed lowly, looping his arms over those very strong shoulders he was now too familiar with, but then remembered something he had been contemplating about since earlier today.

"Wait, Shizu-chan…"

His husband looked up at him with a question, a brow raised. "Hm?"

"Remember what you asked me at Spago last week?"

"What about it?"

Izaya seemed to grimace at himself before he convinced his doubts that it was all right to say it.

"Didn't you ask me if I wanted to go back…to Japan?"

Shizuo Heiwajima visibly paused.

He remembered.

Yes, he had asked him that had he not? In light of noticing Izaya to have become a bit paler lately, and mentioning often how he missed life there, how he missed those they had spent days there with.

Now this he wanted to hear…after all, wasn't it the retired Informant who asked him to come here in the first place?

"And?" Shizuo hung on for his response like always. He hung on for the decision he had waited for a very long time. "...well?"

* * *

 _Yuri: This is as far as I'd go for now. I'm still deciding on the type of approach I want with this one. I kind of want to make it small sections of short stories but that still is open to debate. These chapters after all were old stories I had written years ago. I did little in terms of rewriting them. They were perfect as they were._

 _I am actually still in doubt whether I could write the next to this or no too. But then, little by little, I want to get my fingers back into the tempo again. *deep breaths* I hope with this and the continuance of Cinco Storia (and hopefully all my other stories), I would once more get the grasp of things._

 _As I figure out and move on with my life._


	4. Before It Dawns

The sheets were all creased and ruffled, the pillows strewn about, the bed entirely a mess, no less the occupant left there for the moment.

His body was marked all over with love bites, some prominent enough with the outline of teeth, others just a tender bruising left from too much suction. In obvious places, and in places that were not, the culprit of them knowing well he had just about covered every corner of that form. When earlier he had roughly and demandingly taken his fill, rendering the said occupant a moaning heap under his attention...

Their Master's Bedroom at the mansion echoed with cries of passionate delight, the current and quite young 'patriarch' of the house making certain that his mate knew where he belonged and to whom he had vowed to, in the dominant embrace of what was once and maybe still is the Strongest in Ikebukuro.

Izaya slept.

Well into the early hours before the sun kissed its mornings, as he was once again exhausted, subjected to the high-strung devotion of his fiery husband that had always been intent on not letting him go until he was thoroughly spent. Though the lack of the other's presence near him now made him stir, a hand lazily gliding over the bed to feel for half-consciously the man he adored, but not finding the warmth, just that lingering impression and uncanny scent.

It jolted his senses. He finally woke up, stirred not only by the absence but also by a certain sound that seemed to continue at this tempo, a ringing somewhere, which belatedly he had realized was coming from his husband's phone.

He got up. More or less slid to sitting with a pillow propped under him and checking to see if his body was deemed fit to rise, feeling a certain heaviness down his lower portions but already accustomed to it, in fact reveling in it, in that strength that had put him in that state.

He fell back upon the sheets with a quiet yawn, contented and not about to leave just yet, while very lowly he had heard his better half take that call, hearing his words as his mind half relaxed in preparation for slumber. Hearing the voice draw nearer and feeling the shift upon the bed as the form of Shizuo Heiwajima returned to their disheveled nest, in all his breathlessly naked glory sitting at the edge with his back turned to him.

There was another brief shift in the weight of the furniture as the other made himself comfortable. Maybe he had thought Izaya to still be asleep as he continued conversing lowly in his impeccable English, while the other unobtrusively watched the muscles on that back tense and ease, the scratches there evidently the results of all his clinging to earlier.

The man was still a monster, though refined he had become these last years. It makes him smile. Not but a few moments ago he was trapped in that iron cuddle, and already he was longing to be trapped in it yet again. He was having an appetite.

"It's all right. I did say you can wake me any time there is the need," Shizuo had responded to whomever it was he had been talking with on the other line, in that same voice that would actually croon to him with such lewdness, already, it was sending the Izaya into heat from imagining. "...of course the order had been fulfilled, the specifics down to the letter, you can rest assured that _that_ sort of matter never gets past me."

But all this chatter and neglect somehow made him feel all the more horny. That he couldn't take it finally so like some sensuous feline, Izaya stretched and moved, creeping up to his husband and all but moulding himself up his back. It had not surprised the other. He was always somehow vaguely aware of where his lover was.

Blessed warmth. Shizuo had reached smilingly to thread the fingers of one hand through his beloved's sable hair as his male wife eavesdropped on the conversation, pressing his chin to that shoulder, an ear to the phone, kisses and some bestowed on what skin he could find and there was plenty. It in fact rippled under his fingertips.

He pressed his swollen member against Shizuo's back, grinding a bit, letting the other know his condition as his own fingers sought that of his partner's, making known the wetness that had dribbled down his shaft at the contact as he smeared it with purpose down his Monster's spine. Plentiful signs of want. He needed comfort and only one person could give it to him, could satiate him.

The Monster was unfazed, though his body likewise showed the evidences of a building hard-on, his magnificent length reacting to that touch alone. Annoyingly however, he kept to the conversation he had started. To which Izaya found the need and butted in, "M~e~o~w" and played at it with a grin.

Shizuo chuckled to himself. _Brat..._

' _Was that a cat?'_

"You can say that, Mr. Defense Secretary," yet was lovingly chided by his husband with a not too serious narrowing of eyes, as he all but only slid to straddle up front now, gliding his slender form between those arms to make room for himself on that lap, kissing his hubby's nose while his own arms looped around Shizuo's shoulders.

The patriarch was becoming impatient himself. Izaya's milling of his own cock to his cock was somehow making it unbearable, add that to the sweet tousled look on that face before him, as if challenging Shizuo to mess him up again real good.

The aim was to get rid of the call as fast as he could then, but sneaking a hand to twine their fingers together, kissing his lover's palm, eyeing the wedding bands that had been the sign of their union, the jewelries glinting under the paleness of the light.

He kissed that finger between his words, "I will be expecting the balance to be paid off in full once the cargo reaches your shores later in the day then?"

There was an obvious verbal nod from the other line, another satisfied customer: ' _Consider them paid. I have full confidence in you Kline.'_

Izaya was up to more mischief, this time pressing his chest to produce some form of wanton friction amid them, his nipples as erect as he was below, noticeably. Boldly he spread his legs to give his husband a view, to which Shizuo only answered with a sly smile all his own and a squeeze at that ass, pulling at one cheek to stretch the hole where he was intending to slam into after this. His eyes seemed to promise the Flea, ' _I'll make you pay for this.'_

"Please. Call me Shaun. It's not like your country isn't one of our biggest clients," he did voice out calmly however, controlling the base of his voice lest it came to a point seductive. Izaya was already moaning into his ear.

The call at last ended, prompting the start of his enjoyment, Shizuo toppling a laughing Izaya down and returning the earlier favour by humping him a bit.

"You imp. Really."

His male wife laughed even more. "I hate it when business catches up on you even while we are in bed together." he playfully pouted. "You owe me an apology, _Shizu-chan_."

This was somehow his fault for spoiling him. But then again how could Shizuo not? This was the person he had promised to cherish for the rest of their lives together. A heated kiss was his response, that yielding mouth easy to being invaded by his tongue, trapping both of them in a verbal dance without words, only between pants and moans as his hands roamed the body beneath him once more.

"It can't be helped," in a way he was apologizing now, breaking the kiss, looking down at how that simple act had rendered the other delirious, his face blushing. He licked his lips. "That country already has troubles with the militia for some time. Now they just want to fight and take back their peace."

All this talk only made Izaya needy, arching up to his lover's touch all the more, whimpering deliciously some ear candy.

"An advocate now, I see," he whispered.

Shizuo smirked. "Hardly," and he ground their lengths together, meeting that arch with an emphasis of his own hips, rendering his male wife into a series of wet 'ahhs' and 'haahs' and tossing, reaching out to cling unto him. "The US government had sanctioned this deal.

"It helps put food on the table."

More than that, legal arms dealership was actually big money. It not only afforded them the life they had now, it likewise kept their bank accounts rolling. Enough to support not only their children, paying off other lavish expenses aside, but also supporting the men under their employ.

It had been a huge matter. Shizuo was keen at being a great provider. Who would have thought he could make more out of the trade their late father had left for them both?

As his husband moved on top of him, Izaya could only smile, pecking gently at his lover's lips in a return of his affections, fingers playing circles to twine Shizuo's coffee locks between his digits. He grew up to be such a handsome man, not that he was not that to begin with. He was always a stand-out wasn't he? Wasn't that one of the reasons why the former Information Broker had impressioned on him?

"I'm scared you'd actually have no time for me. And the kids."

Shizuo was beginning to grope about his body once more, knowing from which areas the sensitivity could spike up the most, licking a path upwards over such rich skin that had began to pepper with sweat. It earned him such gracious reactions. He couldn't help but feel so aroused by it, embracing his dearest tightly.

"Never," he whispered, but dallying not to the reason why they were in this position to begin with. "Up for a fuck, _Mrs. Heiwajima_?"

Izaya couldn't help but chuckle again at such boldness, "Are you peddling sex now too?" He teased, but had already hooked one leg over his hubby's back, opening himself for a direct assault, his hole clenching and damp still from an earlier conquest. He gave him a smug look, tilting his chin to the side, exposing more of his vulnerability. "You know what I like best? Sex and guns. Lovely things…"

Whatever he had wanted to say next was cut off and into another bevy of abrupt moans he had ended, as Shizuo moved his mouth over, covering him in earnest kisses, sucking at his flesh, caressing his nudity, causing Izaya to grab at the sheets and at that hair, fisting there as his eyes shuttered close, his world reeling.

It was too beautiful for words, too honest and open, and Shizuo took the time to admire it. Although briefly, he was nonetheless thankful to be seeing this everyday. In and out the context of sex, his married life was satisfying. That before cupping his beloved's cheek in his palm, sealing their lips into another niggling and quite perfervid kiss.

The day had long began without them. The sun was spreading its warmth.

This was just all right however.

They had more than enough time still...


	5. Happy Mornings Part 1

_**Author's notes:** Oddly enough, the KnB, DRRR, AnK, HxH and a horde of other fandoms are casually taking turns swimming in my head one after another lately. Which had prompted me to write more and more at every opportunity. It's like I just learned to make sentences. It flows out so easily. _

_Whatever therapy is doing, it's doing it well. Cinco will be updated next._

* * *

Living with each other.

Their days usually start with having to walk down the stairs together, their hands normally threading fingers, exchanging the barest of touches here and there. A small smile or a snuggle, passing neath the elaborate chandeliers just going out and taking time among the rows of bay windows as the curtains were pulled aside, pausing under an archway or two, kissing, whispering...

Izaya had developed a proper wifey's habits, catering to his husband's needs in bed, catering to them out of it. A strong supporting existence that lights up his better half's world when it was necessary. He was now the sort to often pick out which suits would go with which occasion. Which shoes to match the cufflinks and expensive watch. His hands would be the first to straighten out a wayward tie just as easily as it would reach out in response during his lover's wants.

Unusual he had grown accustomed to the role when he had been so utterly selfish that this would not at all have been too possible of him in the past. Who would have guessed? He had changed for the best.

Their appearance was greeted by the servants upon their descent, 'Isaiah', the female of the relationship immediately starting a retort and some relaxed chatter, always bright, quite close to those that maintained the house, while his husband was busy tapping into his phone, though trapped their hands stayed.

The chores had been promptly taken cared for he was informed, and all that needed was his stamp of approval or otherwise they would clean over again. There was likewise already the plans for dinner even if they hadn't started on breakfast.

Izaya had instigated with a suggestion after dismissing the maids, "Maybe we can take the kids around town after work? It's been awhile since we've gone somewhere together.

"What do you think?"

'Shaun' turned his attention to him, stopping to think before responding, "I don't see why not. We can even catch a movie perhaps? Just not the last full show. We wouldn't want to be home late."

The halls had become familiar through the years and they'd make their way easily towards one of the larger dining rooms, Izaya tracing an oversized Persian carpet with his feet to Shizuo's amusement, twirling in his hubby's hand as they paced lazily along this side of the estate to the most common space they use during this time of the day. Where the sunshine best crept in from the East to begin warming the interior of their immense home. They always wanted the windows open to the breeze at this time. To the gentle hum of the gardens and the the murmur of streams outside.

Sebby with a bow had casually pushed the doors aside as the couple made their entrance, the tykes already seated inside immediately jumping off their chairs to greet them both, scattering crayon drawings and pillow cushions all over the rug and marble. Things which the maids immediately see to and pile away to a corner.

"Shizu-papa! Iza-mama! Good morning!"

A small attack of tiny _glomps_ and kisses, huggles around their mother's knees and giggles. Izaya had patted their wee ones on the heads, "Good morning my lovelies…" before Shizuo hoisted them easily into his arms.

"Don't I get kisses too?"

The children were happy to oblige, pressing their small cheeks to their father's from either side. The phone and his business along that was promptly neglected into Sebby's waiting hand while the Monster faked a fall, the kids holding on to their pretending 'tower' then laughing and smiling their little hearts as Shizuo all but proceeded to lumber about with them, making stomping sounds.

"Onwards to breakfast!" Shizaya, ever the bubble of energy.

"Onward!" Izuo, the younger and more reserved of them both.

Their father had a large grin on his face and for a moment let his old self slip through the current serious face he usually donned, as they followed a knowingly smiling Izaya to the table, those smaller hands clung to him, around his head and grasping through his hair. The perfect image of a happy family.

Shizaya was already on his list of requests, "Pancakes with strawberries! Izzy wants ham!" to which his twin only nodded, settling further into his fur coat in his characteristic shyness as their father put them down gently.

"Doesn't ham make your tummy hurt?"

"He should eat it with milk," the patriarch Heiwajima pulled a chair out for his male wife to seat into beside him, sliding it back in like the perfect gentleman and taking his place at the head, the children on either side of them.

Sebby was already proceeding with service, plates landing with the silver all around, the clean napkins in simple folds spread onto the children's laps while a streaming cup of hot coffee was poured here then there artfully, the newspaper brought in for reading alongside some periodicals. As scheduled, the doors opened a second time, this round allowing the figures of Clyde and Miranda Arci in, the two smartly-dressed right hands greeted by Shizaya's enthusiastic waving and Izuo's tiny nod.

Like clockwork they proceeded after returning the small gestures, Shizuo before taking a sip of his brew inquiring, "Schedule?"

Clyde responded, a tablet pulled out of its idle state to ascertain what he already knew by heart, "Factory spot inspection by 12:30 PM. Then the Rossian deal by 2. They have not confirmed though, regarding availability, but I had already followed up."

Shaun Kline nodded in understanding. Miranda had her own organizer pulled out. "Boss Isaiah also has a meeting to attend to at about the same time. Mainly just blueprint approvals. The new design will compete in the annual bidding."

The two seemed to weigh their hours and minutes, by habit sneaking glances at the children that were already preoccupied with their plates, Shizaya with a 'Say ahh Izzy' feeding his brother carefully a small slice of his pancakes. Little miracles these two. The House's own teeny rainbows. The couple could not help but smile.

"Come nightfall do we have anything else scheduled?" Shaun Kline voiced the question that his male wife likewise waited the response to.

It was Miranda that confirmed, "Not really Boss." Clyde simply agreed with a nod, double-checking his set calendars as a habit, almost compulsive to a degree, but the work always needed to be thorough. This was a relief to the couple.

"So we're free come night time?" Isaiah smiled and his hubby mirrored that, stating, "Can you pencil in dinner with Isaiah and the kids for me around 7 or 8 PM? And find me a good restaurant, book it. For tonight."

Impromptu plans were common. Sometimes even the appointments set months in advance can shift the last minute. Miranda and Clyde exchanged glances. There was nothing new to this simple and rather private request. It was actually a very heartwarming thing.

This time Clyde confirmed, "Of course Boss. That can be arranged."

Miranda added, "I'll just email you the list for selection. You can tell us which one you-"

The Patriarch dismissed that with a wave of his hand and a small grunt, instead asked a favour, "You two choose the best. I'll trust your judgement on it." And he gave them a smile, knowing well the history between them and the fact that although they argued usually they did work well together, like the smooth blend of cream and coffee. As the Monster and the Flea.

Izaya chuckled.

It was amusing how these two always seemed to not have a choice but be together. They did look cute with their frustrated, nonetheless flustered, expressions. Honestly, they should return to dating...


	6. Happy Mornings Part 2

Having a family was no game yet it was something he signed up for voluntarily. He has prepared for it with his whole life to say, and he had vowed that he will nurture it until his very last breath. Incomparable this feeling within while he looked at their children who were on the process of beginning to grow up, having more questions of the world around them that they, as parents, sometimes can't or are loathe to answer. But who loved to give way to, loved to discover with. Turned out they, especially him, were such a devoted couple.

He didn't know how that had happened yet it just... _happened_.

"Did you get Shii's call?"

Izaya put down his cup of tea, taking his pair of glasses off to fold close the laptop before him, having done organizing the work he had pending in it. His husband cast him a brief look over a shoulder from where he had been sitting, legs crossed, nearest the twins as they played on the carpet.

Izaya sighed and pouted, noting something. "Hey love. You will wrinkle your Armani."

Gracefully he sauntered towards his husband, sliding arms around his shoulders to cuddle about his neck from behind, kissing the Monster on the top of his head, inhaling the faint yet dominant scent of his perfume as well as the signature add-ons of the body care products he used everyday.

Shizuo had become _slightly_ vain in that department. Part of his training from their father was obviously all about good grooming, that as a Kline it was important to be presentable all the time. The former Information Broker couldn't help but play his fingers through his lover's slicked back hair, tilting the other's face up by his chin so he could kiss his forehead just as lovingly.

This made Shizuo chuckle.

" _You_ will wrinkle my Armani you mean?" and he returned the kiss, lips touching his male wife's jaw as his hand reached back to slide suggestively over Izaya's nape, dragging a grin out of the other. "I had spoken to him. It looks like things will be fine for the meantime." It was a response to his earlier question while, as if an automatic impulse, he held his beloved's hand and kissed that too.

Izaya leaned in a bit more closely, inhaling deeply, actually burying his nose against his hubby's hair this time. "You smell really nice, Shizu-chan" staying tangled there for a while.

A few more kisses and a chuckle. The twins notice that and grinning, Shizaya had not failed to speak up, "Papa and mama are _adorbs_!"

" _Adooorbs_ ," Izuo added, not a smile on his face and just as quickly resuming to pencil up his line art critter.

A blush settled on the _mother's_ face that Shizuo poked fun at and poked at his cheek for.

"We have fanboys."

"Shhh..." out of embarrassment Izaya covered his hubby's mouth, the latter's laughter muffled even as he kissed that palm, stating simply _'I love you'_ with a smile that lightened up his expression.

Playfully, he reached back and easily pulled his male wife to sit on his lap, kissing him squarely on the mouth before he could protest, arms hugging him about.

The twins instantly covered their eyes, Shizaya placing an extra hand over his brother's own hands as Izuo blushed innocently and curiously.

* * *

He held their young one in his arms, the latter grasping his shirt as he was being cradled by _him_ on the couch. Shizaya had likewise stayed by, with tears in his eyes, sniffling up to their _mother_ , worried that his brother is in too worst a condition to survive.

A little heart with little fears, he stuck right beside his twin as Izaya comforted them both, reaching a hand to pat their Sabe on the head, easing his tears away with a gentle thumb, reaching to do the same with Izzy, kissing both their foreheads after.

"Ah...what is Mama going to do with you two?" the Matriarch of the House smiled warily, but warmly at his two wee men.

Sabe was trying his best not to cry again, though he looked like he was not really succeeding, lips pursed adorably in a withholding pout as he held up a small, unopened carton of dairy.

"Here. Milk," he sobbed, near-bursting, but burying his face against their Iza-mama's side even while his hand trembled with the offering. "Drink. Milk." Muffled concerns.

Izuo Orihara-Heiwajima had a weakness for meat, everyone knew, but everyone also knew how he undeniably liked eating it too. Whenever he overindulges however, he gets a terrible case of indigestion, though this would have been averted if he had only taken, along with moderation, the milk that acted like a soothing remedy to his tummy aches.

Milk. It was something he got from his father...

Shizuo had walked over just a few minutes after settling another unexpected call, a worry on his face he did not deny as he planted a kiss onto Izaya's hair, checking up on their kids.

"How is he?" he extended a hand to ruffle little Izzy's hair gently, smiling at Sabe too who had peeked out, all teary-eyed.

Izuo was muttering how much it was hurting and the other little Kline all but cried again this time, seeing his Papa now there too, "Is little Izzy gonna die Mama?" The tears fell all over his face, a combination of clinging, snot and sobbing helplessly, his large eyes showing honest worries.

The couple looked at each other, Izaya giving a knowing nod and then a small smile which Shizuo understood. Shizaya did love his brother too much. It was such sweet affection they shared between themselves. The couple knew they would be all right in the world as long as they had each other.

"It's impossible for one to die of indigestion, Sabe," the Patriarch gathered him into his arms and lifted him up, patting his head to rest it against his shoulders, easing a hand down his back to tell him things will be fine.

Izaya assured him, giving their other son a light rocking in hopes of lulling him to rest, "the medicine is working, so don't cry love. There there…It's okay."

"How's about you go get some more milk for your brother so he'll feel better?" Shizuo suggested, lowering Shizaya down to the carpet and patting his head some more. Maybe a bit of a distraction would help. "He'll need a couple more maybe?"

The earlier carton was somewhere on the couch, leaned to one side of their mother, for now untouched as the one needing it was already tousling into sleep. The older of the little Klines nodded, "Uh-huuh…" wiping at his tears with his smaller hands the best that he can and scolding himself with his head down.

Shizuo gave him a handkerchief from his pocket that the boy accepted, wee hands busy at getting himself in order even while he clung to his Papa's leg. Sebby walked in just in time, acknowledging with a silent look on his face the command the Patriarch had given, tossed just as quietly between them. The Monster urged his son on with the little errand.

He seemed to be red with embarrassment, as well as with a few more straying tears that he was pouting about. He could not stop crying. Yet with a determination, Shizaya had ran off, Sebby following behind. They had passed by Clyde and Miranda Arci on their way out, the butler giving the two a quick bow as he excused the hurry for them both.

Clyde had to be the bearer of bad news, "Boss Isaiah, Boss Shaun, we only have 42 minutes" referring to the schedules that they had earlier discussed.

Izaya, with Izuo still in his arms and just fallen asleep, looked up to his husband with an exasperation. "Looks like I won't make it. I can't leave our Izzy like this," he said apologetically.

It was his female secretary's turn to be exasperated, but knew of the emergency thus she had to improvise, suggesting, "Well, I can call them and rearrange the schedules..."

"Scratch that," Shizuo stopped her from saying further instantly. "Tell them it will be Shaun Kline who'll meet with them today."

That shocked Izaya rather. "Are you sure? Don't you have an inspection set?"

His husband instead turned to Clyde, pocketing one hand while he checked his suit, himself. Sabe had sobbed into it earlier and while it really was no issue, he had wondered if he should change or no to keep appearances of course. "Move that schedule to 3 or later. Since the Rossians haven't confirmed, I'll take both our appointments today."

"Yes Sir."

Izaya frowned, "Shizu-chan…"

"No buts," the Monster bent in to tilt his male wife's face up to him by the chin, similar to how he had done so just moments earlier, kissing his cheek. "It's better that at least one of us is home with Izuo." He turned his eyes to Miranda. "Inform the group in advance please. And apologize on Isaiah's behalf."

The two right hands had no qualms and immediately set out to do just as told, precision as they had been through practice. By this time, the Monster had pressed another lingering kiss on his wifey's lips, a palm gentle upon his cheek before he touched their foreheads together. Lovely, this, Izaya thought. He'll never get used to Shizuo taking responsibility not only for their father's business but also their lives. It had exceeded everything he had planned or expected for really.

"Do you know what to talk with them about?"

The Patriarch nodded. "I'm familiar with it, but I'll run through your laptop just in case…" again, more of the loving kisses, a hand lifting to cover their sleeping boy's eyes by instinct as the kiss became slightly torrid, his tongue slipping out to dance with his male wife's, leaving them both breathless. "If Izuo feels better, dinner at 7 is still a go okay?" he managed.

Izaya could not help but chuckle, catching his breath and licking his lips. He took a few seconds to get over his panting.

"I'm sure he'll get better. We will see you later."


	7. These Lazy Afternoons

Ensconced within the limo, comfortable upon the plush leather seats, his male wife's Mac sat on his lap as he himself was seated, crossed legs, inspecting the files and blueprints there alongside the notes left by the former Informant. He was glad for the latter being thorough enough that there was no trouble finding what he needed to complete both his and his better half's scheduled appointments for the day. Everything done much earlier than expected, with an accomplished stretch, he had shut down the device and eased it aside.

Having filed what he was looking for and importing that into his phone's own storage as guidance later on, he leaned further back with a sigh, wondering if it was a good idea to check upon his son again when he had only done so some thirty minutes ago, hand rubbing thoughtlessly at his chin with his knuckles as he contemplated, only for his eyes to fall upon the bands slipped around his ring finger there, the prominent shade of silver and diamonds catching his attention as they likewise caught the light. He stared at them for a moment.

He is a most lucky man.

Years ago when they left Japan, he had not the slightest idea what life awaited them away from home. Yet after meeting difficulties, he was given a future full of contentment, add that to a satisfying married life, good fortune alongside epic changes in him that he admits he himself is not quite sure as to **how** they had really happened to begin with, and is still stuck in awe of them even after all this time, but had welcomed them nonetheless with a positivity.

It seemed as if there was no real need to be worried, or to even be thinking about any other thing besides just moving forward. His world and the paths he took were smoother now, though not their smoothest thanks to some concerns, yet was in the overall still most amazing.

However lately, he also can't shake the notion that 'home' has been catching up on them. Izaya had even hinted openly about it more than once that, unconsciously, he had also been drawn to the idea as well, the questions nagging him about the life they had left behind when they had eloped.

Admittedly, he was curious... what happened when they had vanished so suddenly? Had anyone delved closely when both him and the Flea no longer chased each other on the streets? Has anyone noticed and in fact discovered the true reasons that lay behind the disappearance? It always felt like a loose end needing to be tied up and settled somehow. At least to him, it always gave that impression...

His phone rang mid-contemplation. Shaun Kline, the known elusive head of Kline Industries, checked the display with a raise of his brow, noting the name that came up before he calmed down and swiped at the answer icon with a thumb, pressing the gadget to his ear.

"Hey..."

The smile in his voice was undeniable that even his right hand had paused and stared briefly, only to return to his work with a silent amusement. It was someone _beyond_ important then. Not everyone had the Boss' direct line and while most of their VIP client calls were redirected to him before they can get to their CEO, 'family' could more or less reach him any time.

It was 1:43 PM in California. In Japan it would have been near 6 in the morning of the next day.

' _Hey Onii-chan…'_

That voice brought with it a tinge of nostalgia whenever he called in during those off hours halfway and half the day across the globe. Shaun remembered immediately how the face that owned it looked then, along that of Mairu and Kururi Orihara, collected though somewhat concerned as betrayed by his eyes, when they had realized what was going on and that, requesting it from them, they had been made to swear that no one else were ever to know of the couple's leaving for the United States.

Jests and threats aside, from then onward, the confidants they had left home had kept things secret, the latter always very _enthusiastic_ at helping to avoid any disruptions, never addressing him and Izaya directly by their names even during these long distance calls. Shizuo was beyond thankful.

Yet he had always mused as to why his younger brother had been working rather later than usual recently… his past calls coming in less frequently than he was used to.

"How's everything? Your work seems to be finishing later and later every week. Make sure to rest up when you can," went the conversation in English which Kasuka all but obliged.

" _You need not worry,"_ his brother had briefly paused to wave at another model who was likewise leaving. "Later Kise-kun!" the blond returning the gesture with a grin, energetic even at this hour he had noticed, before he returned to his call once more.

' _It's just that it can't be helped._

' _There are many great projects being tossed my way lately. I am getting enough rest though,'_ he assured.

"Good to know then," Shizuo had shifted in his seat, re-crossing his legs to get more comfortable as he nodded more to himself. Another pause came from the other and this he caught with a crease of his brows. It had next prompted him to ask, "You sound like you want to tell me something..."

The voice on the other line hesitated but as honestly as he could, he did not hide the fact. He can't seem to be able to lie to him so easily admitted, ' _I'm just worried._

' _I heard from Mairu-chan and Kururi-chan that you'll be in the cover of Forbes in a couple of months? Won't that mean everyone will find out where you two are and what you're up to?'_

Ah, so it's already begun.

When they had ascended the business right after their father, the media has been drawn to the tale of the lovers/adopted sons of the late philanthropist Kline. They, as a couple, had normally just shrugged all other inquiries yet, following the tradition the old man had set, and practically because it was Forbes' World's Billionaires nevertheless and the reputation preceded them, they had agreed to provide an exclusive to the magazine, their names and stories to be published in broad daylight for anyone worldwide to see. Shizuo somehow had no issues with it.

"It can't be helped," it was his turn to give his rationale. "Our adoptive father wanted us to tell our story there."

' _You don't sound too concerned.'_

"Well that's because I actually think it's best," said the older Heiwajima. "Do you know Izaya has been thinking a lot about Japan lately?" he leaned in and confided in addition, lowering his voice a bit. "I've been thinking alot about it as well."

This surprised Kasuka, but he had gotten over the initial shock to quietly conceding in a few seconds, as per usual, the expression not even touching his face for too long that no one that was looking had noticed, ' _You're thinking of visiting then?'_

Shizuo shook his head, more a gesture to his own, this time making Clyde wonder as to what the two had been talking about that he looked up again and observed. More like eavesdropped.

"I'm rather aiming for the long term…" he overheard his Boss saying.

It was his right hand's turn to raise a brow. They had all known of the plan, of the couple having ideas of relocating to Japan once more after the leftover transactions of the previous Patriarch were taken cared of, however, they had not anticipated it to be _this_ soon.

Kasuka seemed to be having a similar thought but sounded like he agreed with his brother's decisions anyway, ' _It isn't such a bad idea, Onii-chan,'_ he continued in English.

' _It would be great to have you two come back…'_

* * *

After the call, Clyde confronted Shizuo about the conversation with a grimace on his face.

"Have you been contemplating about this for a while now, Boss?"

"Yes.

"You think it would be a terrible thing?" Shaun Kline had asked his employee.

The other shrugged, scratching at the back of his neck. "It won't be I suppose. I mean, we can always move. All of us _will love_ the chance to get a change in the atmosphere.

"Especially since your Father has died..." he added in a lower voice.

It was rather true. Things had gotten a little somber in the household after the late Patriarch's passing. His current sons were undoubtedly affected by his absence as they had always been with him throughout those years of guidance -they too who had lived under his roof for so long and were cared for by his kindness, had witnessed his career high, his depression led from the loss of a family, his renewed vigor when he had adopted the two Japanese...up to the point of his last breath...

Being around the Estate to some degree felt saddening. There were so many great memories there.

"You made that sound like you are open to tagging along."

He was. Clyde had made his mind up long ago in the same way like most of them have, to serve the Klines until he could no longer do so. Meaning that his life had already been promised o his work. His devotion was as complete as his determination was rock and steel solid. He grew up in this family. He would die in it, that was what most of them wanted...

His grin was genuine, which made Shizuo chuckle, especially after he had given his employer an uncharacteristic thumb's up to confirm this suspicion.

"Well I will definitely transfer where you are Boss, no questions about that," but then inched forward to whisper as a joke. _"I don't know about Miranda though."_

* * *

He swept a thumb across both Izuo and Shizaya's foreheads, easing aside their mop of hair to check and kiss them both there, tucking them in afterwards to next open the windows to let some fresh air into the nursery, a faint scent of mint and flowers coming from the gardens outside.

It was not that cold, just cool enough and comfortable which was good. It had helped to make Little Izzy feel much better, falling asleep almost instantaneously with his twin in the same bed. The two had pressed their temples to each other and dozed off, possibly the cutest thing on earth for their adoring mother as he watched over them to the side, a book in hand...

Every now and then, he did cast his sights outside to a far distance, making a clever guess which way was Japan by plane and how long it would take to travel, mind drawn to memories there.

To love the humans of the city and toy with them. To having staged plot after plot just to see if he somehow was right in the end which most of the time he was. But that was no longer how he lived, was it? Seeing his sons, thinking of Shaun, he knew life was _here_ now. But why does it feel lacking somehow?

He drew a light blanket over the two, settling to the side of the bed again but not feeling like returning to his read. He had a few things coming to mind and somehow they were making him feel... _uncertain_...

Izaya quietly hoped this nap helped to get their wee one well enough for tonight's dinner. Shizuo said he had an announcement to make, something he had whispered to him as the former Informant gave him a kiss farewell earlier.

As to what that is, Isaiah may have a bit of an idea, but like he usually was when it came to the _Monster_ Shizuo Heiwajima, he was not always a hundred percent sure. Why that? Why not?

After all, his husband is still the most unpredictable being ever.


End file.
